Page 108 of Thorns of Desire

“Don’t push me or this will get ugly,” he hissed. “I’d hate for your husband to find your body in pieces before we get to the part where he gives me everything I ask for.”

I swallowed my panic and opened my eyes to find myself in a room with nothing but a single wooden crate in the middle. Holes had been drilled into the sides and there was a symbol on top of the box that was identical to the tattoo that had haunted me for over a decade.

A symbol etched into the open mouth of a skull.

Before I could ask about it, he nudged me forward, but my feet stayed glued to my spot, refusing to move. My body trembled and tears sprung to my eyes. The thought of being shoved into a box again paralyzed me, causing the room to close in on me until all I could hear was my own drumming pulse.

Desperate to stay calm, I inhaled a deep breath, but oxygen only fed my terror. The truth was, I was still that twelve-year-old girl whose fate was about to be sealed.

Before I could find the courage to fight, he shoved me toward the box again. Harder. “Get in.”

I stumbled onto my knees but was quick to jump up and glare at him.

I locked eyes with him. “Please, I have nothing to do with your sister or this world you’re part of. You can’t put me in there.”

I hated the fear in my voice, but I couldn’t go through this again. Just the thought of being in there made all the oxygen evaporate from my lungs.

Qian reached behind his back, pulled a gun out of his waistband, and pointed it at me. “Get in or I’ll blow your brains all over this floor and make your husband clean it up.”

I was a fool to think I could reason with this man. He was as unhinged as they came, evidence of it in his dark gaze staring back at me.

He crowded me, gun raised, as he wrapped his free hand around my hair, forcing me down and shoving me inside.

My scalp burned and I whimpered in agony, but the worst part was hearing the door to the box shut, leaving me in darkness once again.

“Get comfortable,” he drawled. “It might be a while before your family finds you.”

I banged my fists against the wood. “Don’t leave me here,” I screamed. Another door shut, leaving me behind while I sobbed.

I started to hyperventilate, ignoring the pain in my hands from my futile attempts at breaking out.

I cried. I screamed. I cursed.

My throat turned raw. My strength vanished.

Closing my eyes, I prepared for the worst.

I wouldn’t—couldn’t—beg for mercy, yet as I expected this to be the last few hours of my life, I mourned for the future my child would never have. I regretted not recognizing the signs of my love for Manuel. I wished he could know, wished that I’d told him how crazy I was for him.

My husband. My lover. My protector.

I loved him.

And now… now it was too late to tell him.

FORTY-FOUR

MANUEL

Iwanted to murder Alexandra, but finding my wife was the priority. I sent a message to Lykos, requesting his help, and tabled all my vengeful thoughts.

Sitting in the back of the sleek speedboat flying across the water, droplets of saltwater brushing against my face, I checked my weapons. Danil, Soren, and Umbrio were doing the same, and I leaned forward to ask, “We have satellite images of the yacht.Sì?”

I needed the yacht’s layout and an idea of how many men we were dealing with.

“Yes. He only has twenty men on the yacht with him—ten on the lower deck and the remainder scattered around.”

Too many.